I�m sore. It�s good sore, but I don�t think it�s going away any time soon.

As a result of reaching several conclusions about the state of my wardrobe, this week I finally got off my arse and started exercising again.

Running, to be specific.

Now I love to run, I always have. I just tend to be crap at it. I�ve got pretty good form and balance, but I generally can�t pace myself for shit.

The years I spent regularly in the gym between 1999 and 2003 helped considerably with this, because running on the treadmill meant that I wasn�t taking off at my standard rabbit race and then collapsing in a heap after a few hundred metres, my lungs constricted to the point that I feel I may never breathe again.

When I headed out on Tuesday night for my first run in about 18 months, I expected to do exactly that. But I forced myself to start slowly, and managed to run the first kilometre or so at a steady pace and without stopping. That doesn�t seem like much, but it was considerably further than I expected to get on the first go. Especially since it was so long since I�d been to the gym that the batteries on my MD player were so dead it would take a couple of days to recharge them and as a result I didn�t have nice rhythmic, distracting music playing in my ears. Which I usually require to remove my laboured breathing from my consciousness and just keep moving forward.

I set out a larger circuit than I�d originally planned to try, and completed it with a mixture of running and walking which contained more running that I had felt possible.

I had of course forgotten how good it made me feel. The burst of adrenalin. The feeling of accomplishment.

The ache in my legs. But the ache was, and remains after last nights second attempt, in all the right places. All the bits that need to be toned up and shrunken feel like they�ve been working. And my knees aren�t sore, which is a bonus.

Another bonus is that I have work functions on tonight and tomorrow night, so I can keep feeling virtuous right on into the weekend without actually having to do any more work. Time for the legs to recover a bit. But on Saturday I�ll be back out there on the circuit, running just a little bit further than the last time, this time with distracting music blasting in my ears.

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Speaking of distracting music, this week I�ve been working on a project with a woman named Jolene. Which of course means that I�ve had this song in my head for days. Except I only actually know the bit that repeats the name over and over, and that�s what I keep hearing. If it doesn�t go away soon I may have to resort to desperate measures: �Her name was Lola��